Nobody Needs to Know
by MBP
Summary: Harry is in pain from losing Sirius, and Ginny just knows she's one of the only people who can help. Missing moment from the end of OOTP.


A/N: This was a sort of missing moment from the end of _Order of the Phoenix._ Ginny and Harry started to have a moment when she brought him the Easter egg from Molly earlier in the book, and this, to me, was a resolution of that. He could have used her comfort after Sirius; that's for sure.

Disclaimer: I will, sadly, never own _Harry Potter_ (but it sure is nice to come back and write about him every so often.)

For hours now, they've been talking about going to look for him. They aren't really worried - even Hermione has to acknowledge he couldn't have gone far or even off Hogwarts grounds as if he'd ever want to - but she's still concerned. Ron is, too, though he won't really say as much. Ginny knows, though. She knows how much Ron wishes that Harry would talk to him, that things hadn't turned out the way they did in the Department of Mysteries. She knows he is at a loss but wanting to try his best to help. She also knows what the others don't. She knows where to find Harry.

As she walks around the lake, she wonders if maybe she should have let the others in on this, if maybe they should have come with her. They are, after all, Harry's best friends. They do know him better than anyone else. But part of her is beginning to wonder if maybe she knows Harry, too. That maybe there is a side to him that he's shown her in glimpses that the others might not normally see. She remembers again that day in the library and squares her shoulders and keeps walking. This one is on her.

Harry is sitting exactly where she knew she'd find him, though she's still not even sure how she knew, and he's completely unaware of her approach. Or she thinks he is. He's staring out across the lake, and she doesn't know what he's seeing, but she's pretty sure it's not the trees his eyes are fixated on. Quietly, so as not to startle him, she drops down beside him. He doesn't even jump. He does know she's there - she can tell by the way he's angled his face even slightly further away, but at least she hasn't scared him. She's glad for that. He's had enough of fear.

It's a few minutes before either of them speaks, and she figures she'll let him go first if he shows any inclination. Just when she's about to give up and ask him if he's hungry (anything is better than asking him how he's feeling or if he's feeling all right - the answers to _those_ questions couldn't be more obvious), he clears his throat.

"So they sent you?" he rasps. His voice is hoarse from lack of use - or at least that's what he wants her to believe, and she knows it. She shakes her head slightly.

"No one's sent me. They don't know I'm here. I didn't tell them."

Harry's eyes widen despite himself. "How did you know where to find me then?" he asks. He's assumed that either Hermione or Ron had it figured out. He's never expected that anyone else would put in this kind of effort.

Ginny shrugs again. "I had a feeling," she says softly. She inches slightly closer to him, her shoulder just lightly brushing his. She doesn't say anymore for a moment, waits to see if he has anything, but when he makes no effort to continue the conversation, she says, "I've brought you some chocolate."

She reaches into her pocket and withdraws a chocolate bar, breaks off a piece and hands it to him. But he shakes his head, and since she's sitting so close, she's suddenly aware of his slight trembling.

"I - I can't," he says, his voice very low, and she slowly takes it back, sighing.

"Harry, it'll help. Professor Lupin always said..." but here she trails off and can't believe what she's just done. She'd come to try to help, to make him feel better, and all she's done is bring up one of the few people who could probably make him feel worse than anything right now.

Harry's trembling is increasing. He knows that she can feel it, knows that he is inadvertently telling her that she's right, and as she lapses into silence, he tries to take a deep breath, tries not to think about anything that could possibly hurt him - but then one memory suddenly comes flooding back. The last time Ginny brought him chocolate. The library. And suddenly, the lump that was in his throat at the sight of that Easter egg - at the tangible reminder that there are people who care about him now - is back, and it's choking him. Because now he's remembering all of it. And he's remembering what else was making him so miserable that day.

"In the library," he chokes, and he hates how he sounds, so he keeps his face turned as far from Ginny as possible, "that day, when you brought the egg - d'you remember what I said? The only thing I wanted to do?"

And the rest of the memory floods back to her as well, and her eyes widen as she remembers him saying he just wanted to talk to Sirius.

"Oh, Harry," she breathes, her voice filled with pain, and without even thinking about it, she puts her arm across his shoulders. She still can't see his face - he won't allow it - but he doesn't shrug her off, and he tries to take steadying breaths even as he nods.

"I thought it was hard then." He can hardly understand his own voice, and he'd be surprised if she can, but she says nothing. So he continues and he's suddenly saying the one thing he never thought he'd say out loud to anyone. "I - I don't think anything could ever be harder than this."

The guilt over what his parents would think if they could hear this stabs deeply at him as it does whenever this thought enters his mind, but he doesn't have time to focus on that now because he's too busy focusing on his breathing. He's not having an easy time of it, and he knows Ginny can feel it with her arm around him. He sighs deeply, hoping it will help, but it catches in his throat, and her grip instinctively tightens. And suddenly, he can't do this anymore. He can't pretend he's all right, and he can't be miserable alone, and if Ginny's here, it's because she does care. He wrenches off his glasses and hunches over, burying his face in his arms. His shaky breathing is turning into silent sobbing, and Ginny, through tear-filled eyes of her own, throws caution to the winds and wraps both arms around him. Not bothering to raise his head, he still somehow leans into her, and she holds him tightly, knowing that there is nothing she can say.

When he is finally calmer, he sits up and swipes quickly at his eyes before sliding his glasses back on. Neither of them speaks for a few minutes, and then Harry says quietly, "You won't... "

"Not a word," she says simply, and he nods. Reaching over, he takes a piece of the chocolate that's fallen to the ground, still in its wrapper, and breaks it in half. They sit there, taking small bites, feeling better in increments and watching the water.


End file.
